


The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance

by Cibee (Cibeeeee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward First Times, Blow Jobs, Eventual Enthusiastic Fucking, First Kiss, Fluff, Flustered Harry Potter, Friends to Lovers, H/D Sex Fair 2020, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Premature Ejaculation, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Rimming, Switch Draco Malfoy, Switch Harry Potter, Thirsty Draco Malfoy, Virgin Draco Malfoy, Vulgar Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibee
Summary: Draco is going to lose his virginity, so help him god, and he's going to lose it to one Harry Potter. Why? Because of his big cock, his status as The Top Five Quidditch Players in England, and Witch Weekly's Most-Eligible Bachelor for eight years straight. At least that's what he tells himself. Too bad first times rarely go as one plans, and now Harry is looking miserable and Draco doesn’t understand why.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 119
Kudos: 914
Collections: 2020 Harry/Draco Sex Fair





	The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt [#107](https://docs.google.com/document/d/12_5f6f0xUXhqtWfMlhXRyA8kDC3KGShN3oa_IOD12DY/edit#). 
> 
> Thank you to P for the beta and encouragement and general lols. Huge thanks to the mods for this fest and the numerous help and unending patience. Thank you to the prompter for the prompt! I didn't manage to hit everything on the prompt, I hope you don't mind! Lastly, thank you for reading!
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cibeewastaken).

“If I’m not being impaled on a dick in the next three seconds, I am most likely going to die.”

“Considering,” Pansy said, slowly and after taking two shots in a row, as was her wont when Draco opened his mouth. “There are only you and I here, I am worried as to how you will make that happen.”

“I can’t stand it anymore!” Draco said.

“I’m not wearing a strap-on for you, Draco,” Pansy said. “You’re not Ginny, and I’m not mental.”

“But it’ll be grand,” Draco said. “I’m sure I’m good at fingering. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“How would you know if you’ve never fingered anyone before?”

“Yes, I have!”

“Doing it to yourself doesn’t count, fucking prick!” 

“It’s all holes, what’s the difference?” Draco crossed his arms.

“And that’s another example why I’m not letting you near any of mine.” Pansy downed another shot. “And I don’t know why you’re so concerned about it. Virginity is only an antiquated concept designed to shame us — ”

“I am going to shove that book up your arse. That’ll show you how good I am with holes,” Draco snapped.

“It’s Granger’s book, good luck trying to destroy it.” Pansy leaned back in her armchair.

“It’s not about my virginity,” Draco lied. 

“Ha!”

“It’s the fact that I am twenty-six and horny all the time,” Draco said. “I need cocks!”

Two loud thumps sounded from the wall behind them. “Shut yer traps!”

“Sorry, Mr. Quinn,” they said in unison. 

“Fucking pricks,” Mr. Quinn’s muffled voice said.

“He’s just jealous because it’s been forty years since he could get it up,” Pansy whispered.

“Yeah, and if I’m not careful, it’ll be me thumping on walls while horny youngsters talk about sex.”

“‘Youngsters’?” Pansy echoed. “I’m afraid you’re too late. Plus, I’m not horny. I’m satisfied at all times.”

“And how goes Ginerva?”

“She thinks they’ll make it to nationals this year.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.”

“It really is.”

“So Harry’s pissing his pants then?”

“Potter also said they’d be going to nationals this year. Then Ginny chucked a Bulger at him.”

“Did it land?”

“No.”

“This day just keeps getting worse.”

They went quiet for a few moments. 

“You know,” Draco said.

“Oh god,” Pansy replied, downing another two shots.

* * *

Draco would be lying through his teeth if he said this was the first time he’d thought about impaling himself on Harry’s cock. Then again, Draco was a seasoned liar, especially when it came to:

i. His feelings

ii. Harry

iii. His feelings regarding Harry.

So when Pansy asked, “Why Potter?” Draco said, “Because of his gigantic cock.”

Pansy looked skeptical. “And how would you know?”

“It was in Witch Weekly.”

“And how would _they_ know?”

“Apparently some girl fucked Harry and couldn’t walk for three days. Had to be Levitated everywhere.”

“According to Ginny, it’s pretty average.”

Draco refused to believe anything about Harry was average. 

“How would you go about it, anyway?” Pansy asked.

“It’s a hookup,” Draco said. “How hard could it be?”

As it turned out—very hard. Because Harry didn’t do hookups. 

“What a waste of that face!” Draco said. 

“So you admit you think Harry’s handsome,” Ginny said. 

“I meant cock,” Draco backpedaled. “I only accidentally said face because he’s such a dickface.” And now Draco was thinking about dicks and Harry’s face, especially re: Draco’s dick and Harry’s face. God, he needed to _get laid._

“You could just pick some rando,” Pansy said. She was glowing and looked well-rested. Probably because her girlfriend ate her for breakfast every day. 

This was all just so unfair. Draco should be the one getting eaten out every day. 

“So you won’t ruin a perfectly good friendship with Potter? Since that’s something you’ve wanted since you were eleven, and you’ve only wanted to fuck him for the last seven years.”

“I am at the stage in my life where I need sex more than friendship, Pansy,” Draco said.

“You realize you’re talking to your _current_ _friends_?” Pansy said.

“What’s with the ‘s’?” Ginny said. “I never agreed to be his friend.”

“You need to get over that fucking bowl,” Draco said. 

“That was a gift from Luna and you puked in it!”

“Couldn’t tell either way,” Draco grumbled.

“Whoa!” Pansy said.

“Too fucking far, dickwad,” Ginny snapped.

“Sorry, sorry!” Draco amended. 

“I hope you stay a virgin until you die,” Ginny said.

That was rapidly becoming a genuine concern as the days went on and led to Draco suspecting Ginny had cursed him. But Harry was adamant that she wouldn’t.

“You’re a dumbarse if you think she isn’t capable of it,” Draco said.

“Oh, she’s capable,” Harry said. “But she _wouldn’t_.”

“I kinda insulted Luna before that,” Draco admitted.  
  
“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, in that case, better start looking into a career as a priest.”

“No!” Draco grabbed Harry’s shirt. “Help me!”

Harry sputtered. “What, me?!”

“Yes!”

“How am I supposed to help?”

“Fuck me!”

“Oh my god,” Harry said, and then, awkwardly, “hey, lovely day, innit?” to a pair of old couple passing them. 

“Come on,” Draco whined. He had on good authority that he could annoy anyone into doing his bidding. “I’m fucking fit and I dress _incredibly_ well!”

“Well,” Harry said. 

“I’ve seen you look at me,” Draco said. “Especially when I show up in suits, god, the looks you give me…”

Harry’s face flushed red. “You noticed?”

“I’m a virgin, not fucking blind.”

“You know, virginity is just a concept—”

“Oh my god, I’m going to murder Granger,” Draco said. “Look, I don’t care if it is. I don’t care if it doesn’t feel any different afterward. I don’t care that most people come in two seconds. I don’t care, because I just _want to_.”

Harry swallowed thickly. 

“Virginity isn’t real,” Harry said. “But _your first time_ very much is, and I—I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Draco softened. 

“I’m scared,” Draco admitted. “It’s—it’s scary, no matter how much I want it. And I just—I want you, because you make it less scary.”

Harry stared at him. 

“Okay,” he said, with something tender in his voice. “When?”

* * *

Very soon, Draco wanted.

By the weekend, Draco was standing in front of Harry’s door, after an hours-long shower and grooming. Skin soft, hair nice, a dab of rose oil behind his ears (and other parts), dressed in his best suit that brought out his shoulder and pecs (which he worked _very hard_ on!) Draco was finally standing in front of Harry’s door. 

Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

Fifteen minutes, or maybe two years later, a weak voice from the other side of the door said, “Er, are you gonna come in?”

Draco started so badly he nearly fell backward into the streets. “How—when—were you there the entire time?!”

A pause. 

“No,” came the meek reply.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Draco said, because it was always easier to be less awkward when there was someone more awkward than you. He squared his shoulders and pushed the door open, just in time to see Harry disappear around the corner.

“Did you run away to pretend you hadn’t been waiting?” Draco said when he found Harry sitting in the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said. “Tea?”

“No, thank you,” Draco said. “How about some snogging?”

Harry stumbled and spilled hot tea all over his front. 

“Hmm,” Draco said, making no move to help.

“Straight into it, ha?” 

“I have been waiting for twenty-six years, so not really.”

“Right,” Harry said, flustered. He moved to dry his shirt, but Draco stopped him. 

“Don’t bother,” Draco purred. “You won’t be in it for long.”

Harry made a noise in the back of his throat when Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s and immediately shoved his tongue in. Draco’s intention must not be clear enough since Harry, the fucker, did not open his mouth so Draco’s tongue kinda just went sideways and ended up smearing spit all over Harry’s mouth.

They sprung backward from each other. Draco could tell Harry was trying not to wipe his mouth, so naturally that made Draco want to jump out the window without opening the window first. 

“What the hell was that?” Draco snapped.

“What the hell was _that_?” Harry said. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“Of course I have,” Draco said. It was with Pansy at the end of Yule Ball, and the face Draco made after it had earned him a hex and three weeks of cold shoulder, but of course Draco wasn’t going to tell that tale now. “Who cares about kissing!” Draco said. “I came to get fucked!”

“Right,” Harry said. “Well, I mean, do you want to do it in the kitchen?”

“No, I do not want to do it in the kitchen!” 

“Right, right.”

It wasn’t the first time Draco had been in Harry’s bedroom, but the last time he was here, Draco had been drunk and thought it was the washroom, where he proceeded to puke in a vase and then passed out. Now he couldn’t help but think he just might puke again. 

Too bad the vase was gone.

“Are you okay?” Harry said.

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Okay,” Harry replied, and leaned in.

The mortifying scene from merely minutes before flashed through Draco’s head and he jumped out of his skin, choking out, “No—no kissing.”

Harry stepped back, looked down. “Right.”

“I’m assuming this is the part where we take our clothes off.”

“Yeah.”

Draco usually liked to tease Harry fondly about his inferior vocabulary, but with the air hanging thickly between them, now Draco truly did not appreciate Harry’s usual taciturn ways, especially when even Draco was too nervous to talk. They took off their clothes, quickly and methodically. 

They sat gingerly on the bed, facing each other, and did Draco mention they were now naked? Happy days. Now what? Should he say something? Why wasn’t Harry saying anything? 

“What do you want to do first?” Harry said it like they were at an amusement park, except there was nothing amusing nor any screaming happening. Draco thought he ought to rectify that.

“BLOW JOBS!” Draco screamed. Harry jumped, and his dick went zero-gravity for a split second before flopping back onto his thigh

“Jesus!” Harry said. “Why are you yelling?”

“Sorry,” Draco said, and it was like a floodgate opening. “I want to try sucking your dick, or I want you to suck my dick. Oh, we can suck each other at the same time! I want to try that!”

Harry looked about to burst. “Stop yelling it!” He cast a frantic Silencing Charm. “And we can just take it slow, all right?”

“Right, okay, grand, that sounds fine,” Draco said. “I can suck you off first?” he said, unsure.

Harry gulped, nodding.

Draco looked down. Harry wasn’t hard, but Draco wasn’t, either. He slowly moved to lay on his stomach, casting frequent glances at Harry, to make sure he wasn’t laughing at Draco for doing something wrong. Though how could you lay on your stomach wrong? Draco wasn’t sure, but this was no man’s land. Harry laid back, so that made it easier for Draco. Draco grabbed Harry’s cock, maybe a tad too enthusiastically, causing Harry’s thighs to jump. He leaned in and gave a small lick.

Harry’s sigh came out of him in a loud rush. Draco gave another lick and a discreet sniff. It wasn’t bad, both the taste and the smell, but Draco always knew Harry had deceptively good hygiene. Draco took the head into his mouth and Harry hissed. And not a good hiss.

“Teeth,” he murmured.

Draco pulled back, flustered, and felt a slight panic coming up his throat. 

Fingers threaded through his hair. Draco glanced up.

“Don’t look like that,” Harry breathed. “Just...just enjoy yourself.”

Easier said than done, because Draco couldn’t stop the siren in his head that was constantly blasting, “Harry’s cock! Harry’s cock! Harry’s cock!” but Draco decided to take the advice and did what he'd always wanted: licking it from base to tip.

Harry threw his head back and moaned—finally, his cock was rapidly swelling up in Draco’s hand and this time when he took it in his mouth it was much more lovely. It wasn’t insanely huge like rumored, but it still felt large in Draco’s mouth. He slid up and down slowly, wondering if he was being boring, but Harry was making noises and little twitches so Draco kept going. Until his jaw got too sore. He knew it would happen, people told him about it, but it happened so much faster than Draco imagined. He couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed in himself. He had thought he would be a cock-sucking aficionado. 

He pulled off—too quickly—Harry yelped. 

“Sorry!” Draco said, but it came out all wrong because his-useless-at-sucking-cock jaw was so stiff. 

“‘s alright,” Harry mumbled. “What do you want to do now? You—you want me to—?”

But Draco was looking at Harry’s dark, rigid cock. Glistening from Draco’s mouth, and a fat dollop of precum gathered at the top. Draco hadn’t realized how intoxicating it would be to look at a cock in person instead of on a magazine page. And—And—and—Draco couldn’t think. He couldn’t. There was nothing in his head except for— 

“Fuck me,” he choked out.

Harry looked at him with wide eyes. Cheeks glowed darkly, almost the same shade as his cock, and that was something Draco would never be able to forget now. Harry was looking at Draco as though he didn’t know what words meant, even if a burst of precum slid down the shaft so obscenely that Draco felt a little faint. 

Not knowing what to do, Draco lay down and spread his legs.

Harry’s hand shot down to grip his cock tightly as he let out a garbled moan. 

“Come on,” Draco breathed out. 

It took Harry a little while to come back, but in a few minutes there was a slow finger inside Draco. Then two, then three. And it was—a little dull. Neither of them talked. Draco, for one, didn’t know what his hands, feet, eyes, shoulders, voice were supposed to be doing. He’d never realized how many body parts he had until now. Harry, at least, had an objective—one he was so intent on doing, that he seemed to forget that there was a person connected to that arsehole. But there was no pain, Harry made sure of it with his almost snail speed. 

Eventually Draco made a noise and Harry finally pulled his fingers out and replaced it with his cock. Draco couldn’t help but notice it had gone a little soft, and wondered if he should have offered a handjob or something. Harry pushed in, and oh—it didn’t matter that it wasn’t rock-hard. Draco let out a long breath that seemed to go on endlessly, and finally, finally, he felt full.

Harry had his arms straight on either side of Draco’s head. He didn’t look like he was enjoying it, which made Draco feel wrong-footed when _he_ was. 

“Are you—” Harry said. “Are you okay?”

Draco nodded. He was more than, but he didn’t know how to say it. Harry started moving, and Draco closed his eyes at the feeling. It wasn’t explosive or mind-blowing like he’d heard, but it was good, it was so good. It felt right. And Draco felt stupid at the moment because it was as though he had forgotten everything and could only feel everything. He opened his mouth and nothing came out…. 

Harry went stiff on top of him and stilled. Draco’s eyes snapped open as he felt something warm inside of him. And when he realized Harry had _come_ and wanted to smile from it, Harry had already pulled out and started frantically wanking Draco off. It all happened so quickly that Draco had no time to react or think before he was coming all over Harry’s fist, toes curling from pleasure.

Draco panted. His head lolled from side to side before it regained some strength. He sat up to smile at Harry— 

Who was staring at the bedsheet with a frown on his face.

“Harry?” Draco said.

The only indication that Harry heard was the further stiffening of his posture.

Draco couldn’t begin to fathom what had happened between a minute ago when Harry had come inside of him and now. Why he was glaring at the bed as though something terrible had taken place on it. Draco’s stomach dropped, and the tingling of his toes turned to pinpricks.

Draco lowered his gaze to the floor. “You needn’t worry,” he said, voice much smaller than he had intended. “It’s only a one-time thing. I hope—” _This doesn’t stop us from being friends_ , Draco was going to say, but Harry beat him to it with a laugh. 

“Good thing it wasn’t that good, yeah?” Harry said

Draco stared at the floor. Then he moved, one limb at a time, putting on his trousers; his crumpled shirt; picking up the rest of his clothes. Somehow he made it to the front door in one piece. Draco stepped out of Harry’s flat and just stood in the cold for a while, his pants and shoes and his handsome, bought-specially-for-this-occasion jacket bunched up in his arms. Someone walked past and whistled at him. Draco started walking slowly to the nearest Apparition point.

So Draco wasn’t a virgin anymore, now what? 

* * *

“I am shrouded in darkness,” Draco said. “Leave me be so I can perish like an animal.”

“Is he okay?” Ginny asked.

“I wouldn’t say so,” Pansy answered. “He’s a man, after all.”

Draco was lying on the floor of Pansy and Ginny’s living room because if he was going to sulk, he did it better with an audience. 

“I have seen the truth of this bitter, cruel world,” Draco said. “And it is a shitshow.”

“So is this thing I’m witnessing,” Pansy said.

“Seriously, is he going to die? Don’t let him do that on our carpet,” Ginny said. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He lost his virginity,” Pansy said.

“Ah,” Ginny looked at Draco with pity in her eyes. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” She crouched down next to Draco’s languishing form. “It’s perfectly normal to have a bad first time, Malfoy,” she said. “But the good news is that you can only have one first time, and it really does get better from now on.”

Draco rolled over and waved his hand listlessly at Pansy, who signed loudly and explained on his behalf, “That’s not it. He thought it was nice, the person he was with didn’t.”

“Oh,” Ginny said. 

“And the person is Potter,” Pansy said.

“ _Oh_ ,” Ginny said. “I can’t—you actually went through with it?”

Draco rolled back and glared. “Did you think I was joking?”

“Yes!” Ginny said. “Because I think you’re a moron but I didn’t think you were stupid! Having a one night stand with someone you fancy is _always_ a bad idea, especially when you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing!” 

“Who said anything about fancying him!” Draco snapped.

“Oh, give it a rest,” Ginny snapped back. “No one believes you.”

“I believe me,” Draco grumbled under his breath.

“No wonder Harry looked so miserable at today’s lunch, like he hated everything,” Ginny said to Pansy, because her patient with Draco runs out at ten sentences, max. “I just thought he was constipated or something. You know the face.”

“Oh, that broody look,” Pansy laughed. “You call it constipated, but Draco never fails to cream his pants when he sees it. Right, Draco—Draco? Darling, don’t look like that? Here, let me make you a cup of tea—” But Draco just turned his back to her and said nothing more that day.

Draco didn’t see Harry again until two weeks after their night together. They ran into each other while they were walking dogs in the park. Neither dogs were theirs. Harry was walking Pansy and Ginny’s and Draco was walking Luna’s. It was so obvious a setup, but Draco didn’t have the energy to be angry. 

They stared at each other awkwardly until it would have been too apparent they wanted to avoid each other if they just went on their separate ways in a forest park that only has one path. So they fell into step and only spoke when the dogs got too excited and pulled them into each other. A small sorry here and there. 

Eventually, it seemed Harry’s Gryffindor shone through and he let out a cough so faked that Draco cringed. “So—uh, how do you feel?”

“You mean now that I can no longer tame a unicorn?” Draco said.

“Is that really a thing?”

“I don’t know, and now I’ll never know.”

“Er.” 

“I’m fine, Potter,” Draco said.

Harry was quiet.

When they stopped under a tree to rest. Harry said, “You haven’t called me Potter in a long time.” 

Draco had just sat down on a rock and was regretting it, since he had to look up at Harry now. He shrugged. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He walked a few paces away and then back. He came straight up to Draco and dropped down to his knees, looking for all the world like a rejected suitor. “Did I ruin our friendship?” Harry asked in a rush. “If I could take it back, I would. God, Draco, you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Stop talking,” Draco said. 

Harry snapped his mouth shut. Behind him, the dogs had tired themselves playing and were now resting in a sunny spot, curled up against each other. 

“I know you hated it—but do you have to—do you have to be so _callous_ about it?” Draco said.

Harry’s mouth dropped open. 

Draco picked at the moss on the rock. “I mean, I knew I wasn’t, amazing or anything. But you came so quickly—” (Harry sputtered.) “So I had thought you at least enjoyed it—”

“But it was such a disaster!” Harry said.

Draco pressed his palms into his eyes. “Would you _stop saying that!_ ” 

“No, I meant—” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled it away. Draco glared at him. Harry didn’t let go of his hands. “I meant, I must have been so disappointing. It was your first time, and I know what people say about my ‘abilities’ or whatever shit they print in their tabloids. None of them are true but you must have had such high expectations and I just, came in under a minute, like a _teenager—_ ” 

“I didn’t want you because of that,” Draco mumbled.

“What?”

“I said, I didn’t think it was a disaster,” Draco said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. As in, I would love to do it again, kind of thing.” Then, irritated, “No need to look so shocked. Is it so bad that I enjoyed it?”

“No!” Harry said, but he still had that look. “I’m just surprised. I thought I was awful.”

“Maybe it was a little vanilla, but it wasn’t awful.”

“I’ll take vanilla over awful.” Harry smiled. “You know I’ve only slept with three people.”

“Including me?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah.”

“Who were my predecessors?”

“Ginny and—don’t be a brat about this—Charlie,” Harry said.

Draco snorted. “Who’s Charlie?” Then, after a pause. “Charlie _Weasley_?”

“Look, he’s hot, he’s nice, he’s riding dragons shirtless, you can’t blame me. I was horny and just had realized I was bi—”

“I’m the only non-Weasley you fucked!”

“Well, actually…”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence.” 

“But Molly’s been sending you sweaters ever since they found your name on the Weasley family record!”

Draco plugged his fingers into his ears. “Stop! Stop it!”

Harry burst out laughing and grabbed Draco’s wrist, pulled him forward and kissed him hard.

Draco’s eyes snapped open and Harry pulled back. “Sorry,” he said. “I should’ve asked. Sorry. I just really wanted to. That’s bad. I didn’t ask. You didn’t want to kiss me before, so, yeah. Sor—”

“I lied,” Draco said. 

“Huh?”

“When I said I’d kissed someone before,” Draco said. “I, well, it was with Pansy in fourth year. That barely counts. I was embarrassed so I said I didn’t want to.”

“Oh,” Harry said. His eyes dropped to Draco’s lips and he swallowed. 

“Can I—Will you—Let me—let me kiss you,” Harry stuttered. 

“Yes,” Draco said. “Yes.”

So Harry did an odd little shuffle on his knees, and Draco parted his legs softly for Harry to slot in, equally soft. Harry hovered, hesitant, leaning in and pulling back, looking for all the world like he was the one who had never been kissed. Draco said nothing about it.

Their lips almost brushed, a couple of times. Draco was gripping the moss so hard, and Harry had his hands fisted in his jeans. Their breathing tickled the corner of their mouths in a way not unlike a gentle kiss that left Draco trembling.

Then Harry pressed their lips together, closed-mouth. Once, twice, and so on, until Draco went from shaking to relaxed to melting. His hands slid up and cradled Harry’s face with his moss-stained palms that smelled like the earth. Still they only brushed their lips together. Draco forgot himself and opened his mouth only to pull back, face red, and be pulled forward again. Harry snaked an arm around Draco’s shoulder, the other on Draco’s chest. He sucked on Draco’s tongue and Draco was ruined.

Behind them, the dogs fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the sun went down.

* * *

The second time was so, so much better. It was just as nerve-wracking, just as shaky, but now they couldn’t stop kissing. And it seemed once they put their mouths to work, there was nothing stopping them from making noise as well.

Draco said, “Oh, god, oh god, oh, oh,” when Harry straddled him and sank slowly down on Draco’s cock, and Draco understood why people went crazy for sex if this was what it felt like. And this was really what opening the floodgates felt like: they spent the next six hours fucking each other in various places and positions, interrupted only by light catnaps and some Jell-o Draco forgot he had. Draco still didn’t know what he was doing; he was barely thinking at all. Yet it didn’t seem like Harry minded with the way he gasped out in pleasure beneath Draco. When Draco took hold of Harry’s thrashing arms and slammed them onto the bed, accompanying it with one sharp thrust, Harry arched violently and came right then and there, making small, pitiful noises in the back of his throat.

Draco came after a few sad jerks because apparently his spine had decided to melt at Harry’s display and really, he was so out of his mind that he wouldn't have lasted anyway, but that didn’t stop Mr. Quinn from next door from yelling, “Jesus Christ, stop before you cause structural damage!”

“Sorry, Mr. Quinn,” they panted in unison. The sun was shining through the curtain gaps, and they had to leave their little den of debauchery. 

And if Draco fingered Harry again in his sloppy, inexperienced, but utterly enthusiastic way by his front door because he just couldn’t resist it after seeing Harry’s limp, well, then, no one was complaining. 

By the second week into this, Draco was deep in thought about how there must be a law somewhere restricting how many times people could have sex in the span of fourteen days, because Draco thought they would’ve broken them ten times over. Draco’s ears were sore, how could ears be sore? He’d never felt his ears before Harry Potter came into his bed and showed him how much he liked biting Draco’s ears.

“Are you teething? Is this what this is?” Draco said over his shoulder. Harry was currently thrusting his long, languid, deep, deep, deep thrusts—Draco fell face-first into the bed, groaning helplessly, and allowed Harry proceed to show him what it meant when people talked about not being able to sit the day after. His cock dragged its way slowly in and out of Draco, until the lube all dried up and Draco couldn’t bear the thought of stopping to apply more. The end result was Harry not being able to pull out more than an inch before slamming back in. Draco’s rim rubbed red and raw and he slapped Harry’s hand away when the man tried to soothe it with cream afterward. The next day saw Draco standing around for the entire day, trading glances with Harry every time they ran into each other—Harry from Quidditch practice and Draco from whatever meeting he was in—before ending up in a supply room with both Draco’s legs on a wobbly desk and Harry licking wet, hot, agonizingly slow strokes around Draco’s hole.

“We’ll be late,” Draco protested weakly, his fingers and toes tingling. 

“I don’t want you to be too sore for tonight,” Harry said into Draco’s skin, and Draco collapsed with a moan, letting the lazy strokes continue so Harry could do whatever he wanted to him later.

And it was like unleashing a monster in both of them. Satisfied and unsatisfied all at once. They could go from fully clothed to nude in seconds, or hours torturing each other with foreplay. Draco learned the last one in painful pleasure when Harry spent god-knows-how-long grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin on Draco’s neck, steadfastly ignoring Draco’s tented trousers. Draco humped the air, writhing under the onslaught, “God, please, Harry—” Harry just kept kissing, biting, licking, breathing on Draco’s neck until he was putty before finally letting him come. Draco was so fucked out without being fucked that he just passed out, got up late the next day, rushed to work, and got teased for his marked neck for the entire day. 

Draco got Harry back that night, riding Harry so thoroughly before fingering him and blowing him so furiously that Harry was halfway off the bed by the time he came. Then not ten minutes later, jumping Harry on his way out of the shower and proceeding to do all sorts of things to him that would send him straight back into the shower. 

Not that it was all sex and happy days. Sometimes Draco would try to do something sexy and then ended up embarrassing himself (which Harry promised never to bring up). Or the time Harry tried to be domineering and threw Draco on the bed, only for him to land right on the bottle of lube they left there, and it made such an unappealing squelching noise, spurting half of its content out on the bed and Draco’s unfortunate body. Harry laughed so hard and Draco was so mortified, stammering out about how that was _not_ him who made the noise. In the end they just cleaned up and ordered takeout to eat in front of the fireplace. It was all trial and error, and remembering their first night together all too well—they never failed to speak candidly to each other. At least about sex.

Which brought about the kicker. A month after this had started, when Draco was sneaking to see Harry during a lull in both of their schedules and heard him talking to Hermione. And since Draco was a very good Slytherin and didn’t want to disappoint all past and future Slytherins, he stayed and listened.

When Harry came over to Draco’s that night, like he did almost every day for the past month, Draco could barely contain his glee.

“You _like_ me.” Draco was absolutely delighted.

For a moment, Harry looked confused. “Yes?” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course I like you.”

“Yes, but you like me. Like, fancy me, like-like me,” Draco said. “Oh, my god, you like me!”

Harry was staring at him through all that, then, “You heard Hermione,” he deadpanned.

“You’ve had a crush on me this entire time!” 

“I wondered why you didn’t show up today, especially since you looked so fucking randy this morning.” Harry ignored Draco and crossed his arms, his lovely, strong, wonderful, safe arms. If Draco could change his address to “Harry Potter’s Embrace” he would do so in a heartbeat. “You were too busy snooping around.”

“Do you want to hold my hand? I can let you hold my hand, seeing that you like me and all.” 

“I changed my mind,” Harry said, turning to stomp into the living room. “You’re not my friend and I hate you. You’re a prick.” 

“You like my prick,” Draco was past teasing now. Reality finally set in and he was a little hysterical from pure endorphins pumping into his blood at the knowledge that Harry _fancied_ _him_. “You like my prick because you like—!”

Harry swung around and threw a very heavy book at him, which turned into a bitch fight, that turned into making out, and ended up with Draco putting his dick in Harry. Draco went from teasing to cajoling, because again, Draco was a Slytherin and he knew when was the best time to get what he wanted.

“Tell me you like me, please? You like me, right? Harry—” 

“I don’t like—Nrk!” Harry’s whole body seized up when Draco brushed past his prostate. It was a rare occurrence, Draco still really didn’t know how everything worked yet, but that never stopped Harry from clinging desperately to Draco. Harry snapped his legs shut around Draco’s waist and it felt like he was going to break from how taut he was holding himself together. The crown of Harry’s head was the only part touching the carpet. 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah—” Harry’s hands shot out to grip Draco’s arms, and Draco tried to hold on to his last bit of sanity to ask the question that would ruin Draco’s heart for anyone else forever if he got the answer he wanted. 

“It’s real, yeah? You liking me?” 

Draco slowed down. He pressed his nose to Harry’s neck, buried kisses into the curls on his chest, ran his fingers through his hair, pressed kisses to his cheek—to fold himself up on top of Harry, pressing against and into him in the same breath. It felt more vulnerable, holding someone else instead. It was a foreign feeling, and Draco cradled it carefully, for fear of dropping it. And he held on tightly, so if he did fall— god forbid—Draco would go with him.

Harry must be able to see these small cracks in Draco’s bravado. He moaned softly as Draco slowed, and in soundless pleasure when Draco lost his calm and his thrusts became unsteady. He stopped fighting Draco’s teases and saw them as what they truly were: a confession.

“I like you, too,” Harry said, biting Draco’s ear softly, the way he knew Draco liked. 

* * *

“That’s why I was so nervous, the first night,” Harry said. They were tangled around each other on the couch. (After some gentle coaxing on Draco’s part. Harry was too sore to move even an inch.) “I was overthinking everything, so worried you would be disappointed and I would lose you forever. Then I just start panicking and regretting the whole thing. And before I knew it, it was all over. God, I barely remembered that day….”

Draco hummed, very content with his spot on Harry’s chest. “I guess I was right about virginity not mattering.”

“You didn’t say that, I said that!”

“You didn’t say that, Granger did.”

Harry snorted. “Fine.”

“I don’t regret it at all,” Draco said quietly. 

“Yeah. I don’t either. Anymore.”

Draco looked up at Harry. “I do like you.” He thought he should clarify. 

Harry smiled. “I know.”

Draco put the pad of his fingers on Harry’s lips and traced it slowly. Those lips that had not seen a day unkissed since the day under the tree, and Draco planned on it remaining that way for a long time. He wanted to feel it when Harry said it.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before, either,” he said. Smiles, flushed cheeks, and swelling hearts—like Harry’s kissed lips, Draco hadn’t gone a day without those as well. “Do you want to take that bullet for the world?” 

Harry grinned. A lovely shape under Draco’s finger. 

“Yes,” he said. 

And that was even lovelier.

  
  
  


fin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


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